


It were a tale

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Chan, Drama, Explicit Language, M/M, Out of Character, Romance, Sexual Content, Slash sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-24
Updated: 2007-08-10
Packaged: 2018-09-29 19:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10142180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Out of revenge Draco was taken from Malfoy Manor as a toddler, only to run into Greyback as a child. Yet Draco Malfoy still makes it to Hogwarts.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Author's note: First fanfic, so be just but kind, please. And please review. 

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling and the publishers, including but but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

It were a tale

Prologue

The man dressed in long black robes watched the Manor intently for the third day in a row. Today would be the day he’d strike, today would be the day that Lucius Malfoy would feel a fraction of what he had done unto others. Today he would lose his son. 

The man in black was not about harm the child, so unlike what Malfoy had done to his daughters but he would feel the loss of his only son. Assuming that the man actually could feel an emotion such as grief. Ah well, if anything it would hurt his pride. 

Had he been sent off to Azkaban, this would not have been necessary but he hadn't so retribution had to be gotten some other way. 

For a few seconds the man in black let his righteous fury at the Wizengamot's incompetence surpass his thirst for vengeance. How many of followers of He-who-must-not-named had gotten away with claiming to be under the Imperius curse he'd never know, or understand. He might not be able to cast the spell himself but he was quite sure that even the most powerful and dark of wizards wasn't able to control up to fifteen minds at the same time. And there had been at least that many present at the attack on his village. 

And Malfoy had been amongst the cruelest of them all. It was sheer luck that Malfoy had been identifiable, one lock of his hair coming loose underneath Death Eater mask. He hadn’t seemed too troubled by it, convinced that all who might have noticed were either allies or dead by morning. But they weren't, were they? For the man in black had survived. 

Plots to kill and maim Malfoy had been his daydreams ever since but he didn't feel like spending his time in Azkaban. So, when after some research it turned out that Narcissa Malfoy was incapable of conceiving again after little Draco's birth and that Lucius Malfoy was bound to his wife for eternity, not able to marry another woman to breed, a different plan had taken shape.

A frightfully simple plan which was apparently was even more simple to execute as Narcissa was in the habit to leave the child under the supervision of an elf for an hour or two in the afternoon. The child would wander across the grounds, guided by his curiosity as only a toddler can be, the elf trailing behind him. Although he already showed signs of his family's snobbery, not uttering a word to the elf other than an occasional order, it could still be corrected. 

Getting the portkey through the wards and placing the shiny stone on the lawn had been no problem, oddly enough, and sure enough the child walked towards it. The elf cried out in despair but the child would not be deterred and grabbed the stone and landed beside the man in black. 

The man in black looked down on his son with a smile. The boy looked at the stone with a confused frown then looked up at the man. He didn't utter a sound or change his expression as the man picked him up and disapparated.


	2. The Boy

  
Author's notes: See first chapter  


* * *

The Boy 

The boy in closet tried to keep himself sane. He should be used to it by now, really he should but he wasn’t. And perhaps it was a good thing too because who knew what his master would come up with as punishment if time-outs in the closet didn’t work any longer. He didn’t think he’d survive if the beltings got any more severe or regular.

But every time he was locked up in here and heard his master’s and the pack’s coming and goings through the door he was transported back to very first time he heard their prowling. 

He couldn’t remember how many full moons ago that was but it still seemed like yesterday or yesternight. The boy vaguely wondered if that was even a word and the thought kept the memories at bay for a few precious moments longer. But the inevitable happened and the boy heard his father scream for him to hide in the closet, heard his father spell it closed before there was a moment of complete silence. Then he heard the howling far away, coming closer and loud noise of a door being broken down.   
The howls turned into growls and then his father’s screaming. Screaming so terrified and horrid that the boy started to scream with him, until his voice was hoarse and he couldn’t separate memory from reality any longer. 

Until the closet door opened and his master grabbed him by the arm with his claw like hand and effortlessly flung him into the middle of the room. The boy landed on his back, aggravating the welts of his latest lashing. Gritting his teeth against the pain he quickly got his knees, keeping his head down and the palms of his hands upwards to show his complete submission to his master. And he kept his mouth shut as that was what had gotten him into trouble in the first place.   
His master stopped before him and the boy flinched. If he got this right then he’d, hopefully, would be left alone for the night and maybe even get his hands on some of the leftovers. 

“Got anything to say, boy?” his master barked but the boy kept quiet. The question wasn’t meant to be answered; he had learned that long ago.   
The rest of the pack spoke in hushed tones but the boy could feel their mocking looks. The boy wasn’t youngest or the oldest of the pack but he was the absolute omega, the weakling. So, instead of answering the question he showed his submission thus reinforcing his non-existing place in the hierarchy. He really should not feel embarrassed anymore by prostrating himself in front of everyone but still he did. And his master knew that and he reveled in it. The boy truly hated his master. 

The boy stayed kneeled down but leaned forward until his forehead touched the floor between his master’s feet, his fingertips touching the tips of his master’s boots. Lastly he turned his head sideways, exposing his throat and going as limp as he could.   
“Good dog.” his master sneered with a hint of dark amusement and before the boy could let out a sigh of relief his master struck. His boot hit the boy square in the shoulder, toppling him over and landing him on his back once gain. He had hoped to be spared this final enactment of his humiliation but one look at his master told him enough. He would not be spared from anything tonight. His question was never more than a very convenient excuse. 

Not that his master ever needed an excuse, it was his role as the omega after all, to provide entertainment for the master and the masses. 

The boy stayed still on his back but his master placed a boot on his torso nevertheless. The boy almost snorted but managed to refrain. If his master had it in for him tonight than pointing out he had already submitted utterly and completely after his first stay in his master’s closet would be a bad idea. Mentioning that at any given time was bad idea as speaking in and off itself was always a bad idea. He showing his master his stomach after fifteen lashings and a stay in the closet illustrated that quite nicely. 

His master waved to one of the others and the boy heard the scampering of feet. Judging by the sound of it, it was Nicky. Nine year old, only part of the pack for a year, and still above him in the hierarchy Nicky. 

And indeed Nicky appeared by his master’s side carrying a plate, looking down on him with malevolent glee and the boy couldn’t but sneer at him. He smoothed his expression quickly though as he felt the tip of his master’s boot press into the hollow of his throat. He turned his head to the side once again and allowed his master to make slashing motions across his throat with his boot. The boy understood full well the intent behind the motion. His master had told him on many occasions that he was there to serve him and the pack and should he be too difficult he would have no problem with ripping him to shreds. The boy believed him without a doubt as he had seen what his master’s nails could do, full moon or not. 

“Still hungry boy?” his master asked, almost nicely which set the boy more on edge. Nice was something he did not do. 

But he really was hungry, starving actually. It had been the reason for opening his mouth in the first place. And lying to his master now was quite useless, especially with his stomach growling loudly as his nose caught a whiff of the food on the platter. 

“Yes master.” The boy answered softly and respectfully trying to keep the sheer need from his voice. 

“You’d like this then, wouldn’t you boy?” his master asked, again in his almost nice voice and the boy risked a glance at the hand his master was waving in front of him. The mere sight and smell of the small of potato had the boy salivating. To add further humiliation the boy could actually feel a dribble of saliva run out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Well,” his master spoke again and the boy saw the small piece of food disappear into his master’s mouth with dismay. “That’s too bad.”

The boy did his best to hide the disappointment from his face but he knew he failed terribly. The smirk on his master’s face told him so. 

“Tell you what though,” his master continued, “you go hunting and we’ll see you back in two hours.”   
A swift kick to his side told the boy that he should get moving right away but he was too stunned by his master’s words. 

He was allowed to go hunting which meant he was allowed to go outside. The last time had been almost ten full moons ago and that had been after he had been pleasing to his master in a completely….

The boy didn’t have to see the smirk or the gleam in his master’s eye as the realization caught up with him.   
“Yes boy, you can show us your gratitude later. Now go get.”

The boy needed no further encouragement to get up and ran from the den, through the many twisted corridors and out the front door. He only stopped when he was well into the surrounding forest and about a quarter mile from the lair. 

The boy felt the delicious cool air on his face and for a couple of minutes he stood there soaking it in. Then he looked at the moon and saw it was hidden behind clouds but he knew it was waxing and that the full moon would be there in a few days time. Making his way deeper into forest he randomly picked berries from the bushes. He knew he had to catch himself at least something and eat it raw. 

The boy shuddered at the thought. Eating raw meat when they were in their human guise was simply disgusting. Even the wolf turned his nose up at uncooked rabbit or fowl, it wanted only human flesh. 

But still he needed to catch something, eat something more filling than just berries, because the…suggestion his master had made would prove taxing. 

The boy arrived at the stream that wound its way through the forest and he sat down on one on a discarded tree trunk beside it. Staring forlornly at the water the boy felt nausea rise as his stomach constricted at the thought of what was awaiting him upon his return. He didn’t want show his gratitude, he had nothing to be grateful for. But of course that did not matter. What he felt or wanted hadn’t mattered for a long time. 

He could still remember his father asking what he’d like for breakfast on his sixth birthday. The boy had asked for strawberry ice cream and chocolates and sweets. His father had tried to look disgusted by his choices but a small smile had given the act away and he had conjured the boy the largest coupe he had ever seen with the chocolates and sweets floating around it. They had eaten it together and had the boy had felt pretty sick afterwards.   
“We can’t have the birthday boy sick, now can we,” his father had said with a wink as he had handed him a potion, “But maybe next time you’ll know better than to ask for such concoction.”   
But there would never a next time because two weeks later his father was dead, killed by his master and his pack. Just like everyone else in the village, except for the boy. Because the boy hadn’t been found until the next morning, hiding in the closet. He had wished so many times that he too had died that night even though he knew the thought disgusted his father.   
His father had told him the story about how they both had barely escaped the attack by evil wizards. They had killed his mother and sisters and everyone else in the village. Not even because they were food, a means to survival but because they hated muggles and wizards who associated with them. And evil dark wizard had wanted to cleanse the world of all of them.

The boy had not and did not understand that. They lived with muggles, his mother had been a muggle, and he was the child of both a muggle and a wizard. They had never done anything to hurt others and yet they been killed. At least werewolves had the excuse to actually need human flesh once a month. These evil wizards had no other reason than their beliefs. His father couldn’t explain it either but he said that some people were nice and some were not and that applied to everyone and everything. Even dark creatures such as vampires and werewolves could be nice and many, many muggles weren’t as excepting of magic as those in their village. The boy remembered his father had used a lot of difficult words by then, none of which he had understood.   
But the bottom line was simply: some people were nice and some weren’t. And it was up to them to always be nice towards all others and keep fighting against those filled with hatred, no matter what they threw at them.   
Tears were down his cheeks and the boy wiped them away angrily. He wondered if his father still loved him, knowing he had wanted to die rather than live and he had given up the fight. And he was a creature that considered humans there prey. Not that he had ever eaten human flesh but he would if that would move him up in pack, even if it was just one peg. Which was exactly why his master denied him. 

The boy didn’t know any longer whether he was nice or not and neither did he care. He simply existed for the entertainment of others and he had no way out. He had tried to run on several occasions in the past. He had tried to oppose his master, never challenging him directly, he wasn’t that stupid, but he had tried to maneuver things in his favor. And he had failed miserably. 

The boy shook himself from his morose thoughts and looked up at the sky. An hour had passed already; he should be getting a move on. He got up from the trunk and leapt over the stream. Last year there had been a rabbit hole around here somewhere. 

Just as the boy wanted to start walking a slight rustle further down caught his ear. The boy sniffed the air experimentally and he was surprised to smell a human. Probably some muggle got lost. The thought he had had earlier was back. If he could catch a human and drag it back to lair then he’d please his master, wouldn’t he? And maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t have to show his gratitude. 

Slowly and cautiously the boy made his way in the direction of the scent. The human had not moved from his position, which made everything far more easily. The boy inhaled deeply to better test the scent. It was a nice smell, deep, masculine, and enticing but there was something wrong with it. Something vaguely familiar yet not. The boy tried hard but he couldn’t place it. Of course his master never took him out all those training sessions he did with the rest of the pack. 

He was very close to the man now and he hoped he’d have the element of surprise because the boy was sure he was an adult and he would need every advantage he could get. The boy inched forward a little more and now he could see the back of him. Not all that impressive actually. With such a scent the boy had almost imagined someone larger than life, because someone with such a scent was clearly an Alpha.   
The boy stopped dead in his tracks just behind the man. 

He was about to attack another werewolf, an Alpha, and if he wasn’t mistaken, a wizard at that. One who was obviously seeking out his master, because what else could he be doing here. The boy’s heart rate and breathing quickened at the thought off all the trouble he had gotten himself into because he thought he could attack a human. The boy vaguely noted the man turning around, with his wand pointed at him and before the world went black his last coherent thought was that this man really did not look all that intimidating. 

 

Please R&R


	3. The boy and the man

  
Author's notes: see first chapter  


* * *

Chapter two: The boy and the man

Remus Lupin had barely enough time to catch the boy before he hit the ground. He had known someone was tracking but knowing Greyback, Remus had expected it to be someone who actually might be able to take him on, and not this emaciated shadow of a boy. A boy who clearly was a werewolf. The scent gave that away. 

But it also told Remus Greyback knew this boy on an entirely too personal level and Remus felt his hatred for the monster that had made him into one reach new heights, if that was at all possible. Greyback was a vicious bastard, not particularly concerned with the well beings of humans but Remus always believed that he took care of his pack. The times he had encountered any of them they had looked well cared for and they had never reeked of …defilement. 

Looking down again at the boy he made a decision and disapparated them to his home. 

His home was small, nothing more than a shack really. It was rather open plan but Remus liked it that way. He did not particularly liked to be confined and being able to oversee the rest of his house from his bed from his bed helped him with that and, contradictory enough, he liked the smallness. It made him feel safe. 

Remus heaved a sigh as he put the still unconscious boy down on his bed. Something was really wrong here, aside from the fact that any child being taken by Greyback was entirely wrong in the first place. Taking a closer look at the boy Remus saw bruises on his arms, hidden by the short sleeves of his ratty t-shirt and he reeked of dried blood and filth. Deciding that the boy would undoubtedly be thirsty and hungry when he came to, Remus let the boy lie and took all of the seven steps to his kitchenette and tapped his kettle. The only thing in the way of food he had was some not quite stale bread, which when toasted would be enough for a stomach unused to regular meals. His own life was irregular enough to know this. 

Before the water was boiling a soft murmur could be heard from the bed and Remus turned towards it. The boy was slowly sitting up, touching the bed and taking in his surroundings with obvious grogginess. Remus took a couple of steps towards the bed and the boy’s head shot towards him. Remus stopped in his tracks and there eyes locked. For a couple of seconds Remus only heard his own breathing as he saw the wooziness lift from his guests eyes, only to be replaced in rapid succession by confusion, recognition, and then fear. 

In the blink of an eye the boy scuttled backwards and fell off on the other side of the bed with a small squeak. 

If the boy hadn’t been so obviously scared out of his wits, Remus might have laughed but as it was he moved around the bed to see if the boy was alright. Shock hit him hard as he saw the display before him. The boy was prostrating himself before him, baring him his neck, making small keening noises in the process. 

Forcefully swallowing down the rising bile in his throat, Remus thought quickly on how to handle this, shoving all thoughts of Greyback’s death to the side. 

Remus knew what this behavior meant, of course he did. He himself had shown his submission to pack leaders on occasion but never ever like this, or even by getting on his knees. Next thing he knew the boy would be rolling over to show his stomach.   
This boy was the omega in Greyback’s pack, it explained everything perfectly. He had been used as nothing more than a thing, and probably by the entire pack too. 

One day Remus was going to make sure that Greyback died a slow and torturous death. 

But right now he needed to focus on this boy. Remus crouched down before him and very lightly touched his shoulder. 

“It’s alright, no need for that now.” Remus said softly, withdrawing his hand as the boy tensed beneath it. He bit his lower lip in indecision before he got up briskly and walked back towards the kitchen where the water had started to boil. 

“Why don’t you come, sit over here and have some tea with me.” Remus said warmly as if he hadn’t witnessed the display. He hoped that was the right thing do. He wanted the boy to at the least feel comfortable with him and after having made clear that such submissive behavior was not needed Remus would simply ignore any other such manners as they came to pass. Which they, unfortunately, undoubtedly would. 

Remus busied himself with preparing the tea, putting cups and saucers on the table and toasting the last pieces of bread, all the while monitoring the boy from the corner of his eyes. 

First the boy’s eyes peeked over the edge of the bed observing Remus’ every move. Then he slowly crawled back unto the bed, radiating uncertainty even if he kept his face blank. As Remus poured the tea, he slid of the bed and very walked over cautiously but clearly drawn by the smell of the food. Remus felt his heart almost break at the hopeful look the boy tried to hide so valiantly. 

Remus sat down, picked up his tea cup and smiled at the boy, who had stopped at two feet from the table, still looking hopeful but eyeing Remus with some suspicion too. 

“Come on, sit down and have a cuppa.” Remus said, again warmly, and gesturing emphatically towards the seat opposite of him, as to avoid any misunderstandings. 

The boy looked at Remus and then the chair with same suspicion before apparently making up his mind and sitting down. 

Silence fell between them as the boy looked at the teacup, the teapot and finally the bread but he never made a move, not even lifting his arms from his side. 

Remus frowned for a moment, again feeling unsure of himself and getting the feeling he was in way over his head. Of course this boy wouldn’t just accept anything, as he was evidently apprehensive about Remus’ intentions. But how to break that without calling attention to things which would surely embarrass both of them? Then inspiration struck, or at least Remus thought so. 

“Oh, how terribly rude of me,” Remus said stretching out his right arm over the table, “I’m Remus Lupin,” when the boy just eyed the hand Remus decided a handshake wouldn’t be forth coming and instead made a sweeping motion with arm, “And this my humble abode.”

Silence fell again and Remus was at a loss. Should he pressure the boy? Remus didn’t think so but this wasn’t getting him anywhere either. He took a sip of his tea and slid the plate with toast closer to the boy. Remus was immensely pleased as he saw the boy’s hands come up, even if they only gripped the edge of the table. 

“Why am I here?” the boy asked, very softly and Remus almost thought he imagined it. 

“Well, you passed out and I didn’t think the forest was the place to leave you.” Remus said, giving the boy a small smile, which the boy couldn’t see as he had his eyes firmly trained on his hands. 

“What’s your name? I can’t really go around calling you ‘boy’ all time.” Remus asked in a slightly joking tone, hoping the boy to feel more comfortable.

The boy’s eyes shot up and back down again and he seemed to sneer for a second. The expression was eerily reminiscent of someone but Remus couldn’t recall of whom.

“My master calls me ‘boy’.” as the boy spoke again his face blanked out again but he sounded resigned. 

“Well then all the more reason to call you by your proper name then.” Remus said matter-of-factly, taking a leisurely sip off his tea and ignoring the way the boy’s eyes shot up and down again or how he clenched and unclenched his hands on the side of the table. 

“And, please drink your tea and eat something, you must be starving.” he added, not surprised when it seemed to have no impact. Instead another silence followed, with boy’s knuckles turning white. 

“You should take me back, sir.” The boy said abruptly, startling Remus out of his observational gaze. 

“Do you want to go back?” Remus asked softly.

This time the boy’s head shot up with his eyes and for a moment he looked straight into Remus’ eyes. It was clear the boy did not believe the intention behind the question but there was almost a desperate wish to believe. The boy had unusually expressive eyes, Remus noted. Something he normally didn’t associate with grey eyes. 

Too soon the boy’s head shot down yet again. 

“My… The leader of my pack will angry with me for me being late,” the boy said softly again and after a pause he continued, “and with you for taking me here instead of to the lair. His anger is not pretty, sir.” 

Remus considered the boy’s words. He felt heartened by the fact that the boy had changed his form off address of Greyback and that he seemed to take Remus’ well-being into consideration, although that might be a ploy to convince Remus to take him back. 

“Oh but I’ve done more than enough to ensure his wrath. Trust me, my taking you here is only fuel to the fire, nothing more and as he doesn’t know where I live I’m quite unconcerned. So do you want to go back or not?”

The boy looked up again and held his gaze again, a bit longer this time. Although the boy’s behavior was frustrating Remus did get feeling he was making some head-way.   
The sheer disbelief seemed have vanished leaving only that desperate hope in its wake. 

“Would your pack accept me?” the boy asked. Remus was again taken with his formulation. No obvious pleading, no obvious despair, no endless questions but one simple question, the answer to which would help the boy to assess Remus’ position and power. How absolutely Slytherin and confrontational, too. The fact that he was all alone was a very sore point for Remus even if he did his best to hide it. 

“I have no pack.” Remus admitted, drinking his tea quickly to avoid too close scrutiny.

“But…how?” the boy asked with genuine confusion, this time looking up, and even if it was a sore point Remus couldn’t repress a small smile. 

“I don’t …care much for indulging…my baser side.” Remus chose his words carefully; suddenly aware of how adverse the boy in front of him might react. After all being raised by Greyback came with a set disrespect for human life and the fact that the boy was an omega didn’t exclude the possibility that he had tasted human flesh or believing the monster’s teachings. 

It was again silent but for the first time it was deafening to Remus. The boy was still looking at him, apparently having discarded his shyness and nervousness in favor of observing this anomaly. 

“So you’re a nice werewolf then.” The boy stated simply, looking Remus straight in the eye. Remus almost choked on his tea. That statement captured what he had been striving for all his life in the simplest of terms. A self-deriding smile touched his lips and for a moment Remus swore he saw the lips of the boy quirk upwards before the boy’s head shot back down. To Remus’ great relief and joy the boy now actually swiped one of the, now cold, pieces of toast and started to nibble on it. Remus watched the boy savor the toast as if was the best thing in world and a dangerous thought crossed his mind. 

This boy, afflicted the same way he was, and in obvious need of protection and care, had accepted him. He could raise this boy, could he not? They could be a pack together. He could have a pack again. He would have someone to care for and to share his life with. A feeling of euphoria started take hold of Remus before his more rational side intervened. If the boy’s parents were still alive he should be returned to them and he could not deny the boy that. Of course, changes were that his parents might deny them, after all Remus’ own parents had been an exception to the rule. But then again the boy’s statement could be proof of an open-minded upbringing, or fanciful dreams of an abused child. But with a little guidance 

The boy’s soft voice broke Remus away from his own fanciful dreams. 

“James.” was the only thing the boy said and this time Remus did choke on his tea. Part of it shot down the wrong pipe and part of it shot through his nose, resulting in a spray over the table. 

“Excuse me?” Remus asked after he had recovered from his coughing fit. 

“My name is James.” Barely more than a whisper.

Remus looked at the boy, who seemed to have shrunken into his seat and he felt stupid for his reaction. James was a common enough name and Remus had met other namesakes over the years and had never reacted like this. It was just a little unexpected and sudden.

“I’m sorry, but it was a little unexpected. A very dear friend of mine was called James.” Remus explained. Unwilling to dwell on the matter any further he shook his head forcefully and looked up at the boy who was looking at him curiously with his head cocked to the side ever so slightly. Again something about the boy reminded Remus of someone else but he was too tired to give it any serious thought. Tired, now there was a thought. Remus glanced at the clock above his fireplace and wasn’t surprised when it read ‘Long past the time for all furry things to be in bed’. Remus grinned at the clock and memory of his seventeenth birthday, when James, Sirius and Peter had given him this clock. Even after everything that had passed since, he still loved that clock. Again he shook his head and turned his head to face the boy. 

He was still being observed but now the boy was looking over the rim of his teacup. Remus had feeling the boy was trying to unravel a great enigma. Well, in the morning he’d talk to boy some more and end that delusion. But for now, the clock was correct and it was time for some rest. 

“Well James,” Remus started a little too loudly and the boy startled, immediately lowering his eyes and putting the cup down so quickly that it connected with the saucer with a clang. Remus refrained from sighing, knowing that a half hour of sitting together and some progress weren’t going to magically heal the boy, if only it were that simple. So Remus continued in a quieter tone. 

“What do you say you go and take a shower and then we’ll get some sleep, alright?” 

The boy looked up again with that heart wrenching stunned look but nodded slowly. And stayed firmly planted in his seat. Right, the boy did not handle an unclear orders well, it seemed. 

“Come on you go and shower. The bathroom is right over here,” Remus said, pointing towards the only other door in his house besides the front door, just to the side of his kitchenette, “There are towels underneath the sink and I’ll find you something to wear. Those things we’ll burn.” Remus finished, waving a hand at the boy’s… at James’ clothing. 

James looked up at him again, nodded again and this he did get up and walked over to the bathroom. He stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder at Remus, silently asking if it was truly alright. Remus gave him an encouraging nod and the boy opened the door. 

“Toss your clothes out and I’ll burn them. I’ll put new ones on the counter in a minute.” Remus called after him as the bathroom door closed, curious as to what James would do. 

Remus was finishing up the dishes when the door was opened only slightly and a tattered t-shirt and jeans were unceremoniously tossed onto the kitchen floor. Remus smiled slightly in amusement and went to pick up the clothes. 

He took a better look at the rags and, as expected, the back of the t-shirt was stained with blood, some of them fresh, others months old. Remus hadn’t wanted to bring up any possible wounds with the boy just yet, either physical or emotional, but the fresh marks meant that he been bleeding even this night and so they would have be treated. Remus sighed again as he dropped the clothes and burned them with a simple Incendio. Then he opened a drawer of his cupboard and got out a carton shoe box. Inside he found what he was looking for at the bottom. An old set of pajamas, the last Christmas present his mother had ever given him. They’d still be far too big for the boy but it was the best he could do. Remus enlarged them back to their original size and headed towards the bathroom. 

The door opened before Remus had a change to and a freshly washed James appeared in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his chest as girls were prone to do. Cleaned and in his towel the boy looked even younger and more frail than he probably was and Remus felt another surge of protectiveness. 

“Sorry sir.” James said softly, stepping back inside into the bathroom and looking down at his feet. 

“Never mind, James,” Remus said warmly, holding out the pajamas, “I brought you something to wear but first I’d like to have you a look at your back.” 

The boy stiffened visibly and Remus was tempted to retract his offer but he knew he couldn’t. If the boy had any recent wounds, they’d have be cared for before they went to sleep. 

“Just put on these pants and lie down on the bed please.” Remus almost ordered. The boy relaxed a little and accepted the clothing before walking over towards the bed. 

Remus turned away to give the boy some privacy and after a few a moments he heard James’ soft voice, filled with uncertainty.

“I’m ready sir.” 

Remus turned towards the bed and found James laying there with his head resting on his folded arms outwardly relaxed.   
Remus was appalled by the sight before him. He knew there’d be scars from transformation, he had reckoned with scars and wounds from beatings but to find James’ back utterly littered with scars and fresh welts was a too much too take. Swallowing convulsively and blinking away a few tears Remus ignored his impulse to take James into his arms and try to comfort him but that wouldn’t do, at least not now. 

“James?” Remus asked as he backed away from the bed towards the bathroom.

“Yes sir?” James asked in return, not moving an inch, but his voice was a little strained. 

“I’m just going to get some salve for your wounds and a potion against the pain. Alright?” 

Remus hardly heard the boy’s soft affirmation as he took out the medicines from the bathroom cabinet. Sometimes his wolf’s senses were a blessing. 

James did not move a muscle as Remus sat down next to him on the bed, keeping as much distance between them as he could. He opened the jar of healing salve Severus had made for him and started to lightly rub it in the wounds. They were both silent as Remus applied the salve, aside from James gritting his teeth and an occasional moan of pain. He should get the boy to Poppy as soon as possible for a thorough check-up but, that too, could wait until morning. 

When he was finished he picked the pajama top which was laid out at James’ side and put it the boy’s hands. 

“Put this on and get under the covers and I’ll give the potion before you go to sleep.” 

Remus got off the bed and turned his back towards the bed once again and as he heard the rustle of fabric he decided to make some chit-chat, in the hope it would the make boy trust him better. Although he did have the feeling he could ask James to jump of a bridge and the boy would simply obey him.

“The salve and potion were made by a ...friend of mine. Right now he’s working on something which will help us with our…situation. He’s one of the best potion masters in the wizarding world, so it’ll only take time before he comes up with something.” Remus stopped his talk when heard a final a rustle and was sure the boy was settled in. 

Well, James was under the covers, as Remus had told him to but he was distinctly uncomfortably, fidgeting with cover as he had been clutching the table and looking down on his hands. Remus couldn’t help himself he leant over James a little, pushing the vial into one of his hands and tugging the blankets up with his free hand. The boy’s body was taut as string but he did accept the potion and raised his eyes to meet Remus’ once more. Remus stepped away but kept James’ gaze. It only took a few seconds before James uncapped the vial and threw down the contents. 

“Thank you sir.” James said, handing Remus the empty vial and laying back against the cushion. 

“You’re welcome James.” Remus said softly as he watched drifting off almost immediately. 

He watched the boy a few moments longer until his breathing had evened out. Then he took out one of kitchen chairs and transfigured it into a for more comfortable chaise longe. 

Covering himself with an old quilt Remus settled himself for night, or morning, of vigilance but all too soon he dosed off with thoughts of his own pack, grocery shopping, and contacting Poppy on his mind. 

 

Author’s note: 

Well, that’s the third chapter. Unfortunately things will not work out in Remus favour.  
I apologize for mixing American and English wordings but being a non-English speaker and influenced by both I tend to mix them up. 

Thank you Rosa and Natwest for your reviews!


	4. The Aplha and the beta

  
Author's notes: see first chapter  


* * *

Author’s note and review response at the bottom. 

Chapter three: The Alpha and the beta. 

James lay in the bed, looking at the strange wizard-werewolf sleeping on the small sofa, sprawled across it like a rag doll. He had been doing so since waking up and his mind had caught up with the fact the fact that he was still in the bed, warmed by blankets and his back only aching slightly. 

James ran the events of the night before through his mind yet again. 

This werewolf was far more pleasant in appearance than his master, even if he did look like he had been run ragged for…forever. And he was, quite clearly, very, very lonely. No wonder, without a pack of his own. Who had ever heard of such thing? True, most of the things James knew about his kind he’d be pleased to see disproved, but living without a pack just wasn’t natural. They were-wolves after all. 

It was sad for the other werewolf but advantageous for James, though. This werewolf might not have the power of a pack to back him up but he did have a wand. He was both a werewolf and a wizard, something else that just did not make sense. His master had always held wizards in a slightly higher regard than muggles, but aside from allowing some wild magic their magical abilities were never trained. His master…

Greyback. The name of the leader of a pack he had once belonged to was Greyback. Not master, not anymore, not ever again.   
As that realization began to sink in James felt a bubble of happiness swell inside him like he hadn’t felt since being taken by the cruel, nasty werewolf. 

Again he looked at the strange other on the sofa. He had taken him in, had given him food and even had him shower and cleaned his wounds. And it seemed that he wanted nothing in return. Of course he would want something, James was not stupid and he knew, better than anyone the costs of submission but he found that he wasn’t too concerned about it. 

This werewolf had treated him with a kindness he hadn’t known existed amongst their kind, and he said he denied his baser urges. The boy was reasonably sure that meant that if he behaved he’d be treated well and that was more than he could hope for. 

James slid out of the bed silently and tip-toed over to his new master. He had always hated this with Greyback but this time he didn’t mind. This master deserved to be served well. 

The sprawled position of male made it easier for James to kneel between the man’s legs and started to unbutton the trousers. 

He had barely done the second one when he heard a startled cry above him and suddenly went flying of the sofa and landed on the floor on his bum. 

Habit and shock had him on his knees instantly, his down and his hands palm upward in supplication, without looking once at his master. How had he managed to fumble things already? He had not even started yet.

“James?” came that soft, kind voice above him but James did not react, of course, he knew better than that. Instead he gnawed on his cheek, wondering what he done wrong and more importantly how he could make it up again. 

From his peripheral vision he saw that his master had straightened himself into a sitting position. A hand stretched out in his direction and James flinched out of habit. The hand wavered for a moment before it moved towards his face slowly and tilted his chin upward. 

“Come here.” His master said in that same gentle tone and James looked up warily to see him patting on the sofa next to him. His master had allowed him to sit on a chair the night before and sleep in a bed, and now a sofa. Obviously the ban on use of furniture, other than closets, had been lifted now. Still, James wasn’t eager about it. He knew all about hidden traps. Just because this master reminded of a father instead of a master, didn’t mean he couldn’t still be very mistaken about everything. 

When he had made it to the sofa, sat on it gingerly and kept on his eyes on his hands, which he kept in his lap.

A hand touched his shoulder. 

“James, look at me.” Again a gentle command and the boy looked up.

The master looked kind but serious. 

“I thank you for the gesture but you are never, ever to do that for me again.” he demanded in that same tone of voice but James felt the imperative hidden within. 

“Yes sir. I’m sorry sir.” James murmured obediently but without understanding. 

His master sighed deeply before giving him a bit of a sad smile. He cupped James’ cheek and James couldn’t help but lean into caress, almost shamelessly. 

“I need to leave now for a bit but when I get back you and I need to talk, alright?” his master was still caressing his face and making no motion to move. There was a somewhat expectant look on his face though and it took James a moment to realize that he was waiting for a reply. James did not understand that but gave a small nod nevertheless. 

The sad smile didn’t disappear but the hand unfortunately did as his master stood up and walked towards the low burning fire. 

“I’ll be back in half an hour.” He said pleasantly before flooing out of the small home, in direction of somewhere unknown. 

James sat on the sofa staring into the fire. 

Slowly several thoughts came to him at once. His new master had left him alone. His master had rebuked him and had then left him alone. He had let his master down. Yet his master had touched him too, kind and gentle. 

James let out a sigh. His new master might be all that but he was bloody confusing too. But he had said they’d talk, so that was probably a good thing. This werewolf clearly did not mean that as a code for other things. He let the realization sink for a moment that he would not have to do that again and felt an odd pang at the thought. He was good at it, he knew that much, it was one of the few things he had been allowed to do anyway.

He wondered how he could please his master now. He thought back to his father, suppressing the dull ache that always caused, and tried to remember what the man had wanted him to do. Suddenly a thought came to James and he looked around the cabin appraisingly. 

Cleaning. Yes, this place could use it and James could do it. His father had mostly used magic in the upkeep of the house but on Saturday mornings James had been put to work the muggle way. 

“You should always know how to do things the muggle way, so that you neither take the gift of magic nor the gift of servitude for granted.” His father had said that every single time yet James remembered it only now. Well, James knew for a fact he’d never take anybody serving him for granted, not that that was ever likely to happen. 

James glanced at the fireplace again and the clock above it caught his eye. ‘Meat time’ it said and James thought that was stupid mistake on a clock but he did acknowledge that meat would be a nice thing right now. Just as long as it was cooked properly. 

But first he went about to finding a bucket and a rag, which were found underneath the sink. He even found an old bottle of muggle cleaning fluid and another old memory came back to him, of a commercial he had seen on television of women dancing while they were mopping the floor. James wouldn’t be doing that but he did set out to the bathroom, with a rag and the bucket. 

By the time James had finished cleaning the bathtub he decided cleaning was a nice chore. He had really thought of anything and it had calmed him down. He hadn’t even realized he needed it. He was so lost in his cleaning trance that he didn’t hear his master coming back through the floo or calling out for him. 

So he got the living daylights scared out of him when he heard a soft cough behind him just as he was wiggling out of the room as he finished the floor. James looked up at his master over his shoulder, his heart pounding in his chest. 

“Thank you for this.” His master said with a lopsided grin, “I’m not much when it comes to cleaning but I didn’t think things had gotten this bad. Now come on, I think you’ve done enough for one day.”

And with that he put the parcels he had been carrying down on the counter and started unpacking them. James waited for a moment until his heart slowed down a little. His master looked pleased and was even softly humming a tune. James noted that the werewolf was slightly tone deaf before he noted exactly what it was he was doing and James jumped up to help him. 

As he reached for one of the un-opened boxes his hands were swatted away and he looked up with a hurt look. Actually he felt a little insulted. But it couldn’t hold up against the smile he got. 

“Go. Sit down. You’ve already done more than enough.” James was told but the voice was filled with amusement not reprimand. Somewhat bemused he sat down and watched his master putting things away. One parcel remained conspicuously untouched and James wondered what was in it. Not that he’d ask or show any curiosity, of course, but still he wondered. 

“You should have stayed in bed or something, instead of doing all that work on an empty stomach.” He scolded lightly without looking at James, instead tapping the kettle with his wand and rummaging through the counter cupboards. 

James looked at the back of his master in a mild but definite state of shock. Could he be anymore confusing. This werewolf was his Alpha and his master, yet he was acting like his father used to. Greyback had made it clear that werewolves did not copy the pathetic human familial ways. The Alpha was lord and master and unless you were a highly valued Beta, you did not think for yourself. Everyone else lived to serve, especially the omega. 

“Aha, I knew I still had one somewhere.” James’ master cried out, giving James a triumphant look, holding up an ordinary frying pan, before 

“Now, I figured pancakes for this morning but if you’d rather have eggs, I’ve got covered, or toast, or grapefruits. Maybe toast and grapefruit would be best; your stomach will not be able to handle anything too hefty yet. But first tea. One should never leave the house without having had a cup. Well unless one ran out of it the night before, like I did…”

James’ shock grew considerably at his master’s rambling. This werewolf was definitely acting like a father, like a human even. He did not act like James’ father who, indeed had never run out of tea or misplaced a pan, as far as James could remember but still. Why did his master have to be so bloody confusing. 

He liked his master, he had felt safe with him almost from the moment he had woken up in his house and he wanted to please him but how he was to do that if he didn’t know where to start. He had thanked him for the cleaning, which was unbelievable and unnecessary, yet had scolded him for it. He had given choices for food, which was unbelievable and unnecessary too, yet had decided for him. James came to an outrageous decision.

“Master, sir.” he interrupted his Alpha boldly and even looked up at him. The werewolf stopped mid-sentence, his expression changing into something unreadable but clearly not good. Still James decided to continue, lowering his eyes respectfully, “I’d like toast with grapefruit, sir, and maybe we could have pancakes for lunch, sir.” 

His master heaved a deep sigh and James knew he shouldn’t have opened his big mouth. It was almost funny that talking about food would land him into trouble with his new master, not a day after it had done the same with Greyback. 

“I think that sounds lovely.” 

And James was almost knocked out of his seat by those words. He honestly did not understand his Alpha. He did not dare to look up. 

His master was busying himself again and soon a mug of tea was placed in front of him. This time did James did hesitate and picked it up immediately, only the burn of hot mug reminding him that it couldn’t be drunk yet. He felt a hand lightly ruffle his hair and that same gentle voice. 

“Careful, that’s still hot.” 

Tears suddenly sprang into James’ eyes because that had been exactly like his father and suddenly James felt enormous grief for his father and the life that had been taken from him. He tried to blink the tears away and focus on the half piece of fruit being placed in front of him but it was no use. The tears fell and James curled into himself. 

He felt his master crouching down beside him and tentatively place a hand on his shoulder. Not thinking about acceptable behavior or anything but that this stranger, his new master, had shown him nothing but kindness James flung himself at the male. Knocking them and his chair over in the process and landing with his face on his Alpha’s stomach. 

But James hardly that or that he was lifted in strong arms and carried towards the sofa and settled on a lap. All he did was clutch unto the shirt and body and cry, while his back was rubbed softly and soothing words were spoken into his ear. 

He had cried when he had been with Greyback, of course he had. It was quite difficult not to when he kept beating and humiliating you until did. But that had been the only times, often as they were. He had not cried for his father like this, never. Not when Greyback had shown him the mangled body, not when Greyback locked him in the closet, not when memories had come him. He simply had not. Until now and he couldn’t seem to stop. 

If anything, his master’s, his Alpha’s, tenderness only made it worse, bringing back even more memories. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

The question was asked louder than all the nothings had been and it penetrated James’ brain but barely. James shook his head in denial but words started pouring out of his mouth despite his desperate wish to keep everything to himself. 

“Papa told me to hide. But he came and he clawed him to pieces,” James said between sobs, taking all the comfort he could, “He found me the next day and he showed me his body and told me that ‘that was the glory of the wolf’. The pack, they took me away and I saw the village and the pack was everywhere and they were showing him the bodies and…” 

James buried himself into the chest before him, wreaking big sobs once more. 

“It’s alright, cub, it’s alright.” 

The words were comforting but not helping one bit to stop the tears, or the words. 

“He bit me, told me that he couldn’t have him accidentally maul such a prize… He told me I was a toy for him and the pack. He always told me that…”

James let his words trail away, finally able to control his mouth, if not his tears. He had never felt so ashamed in his life and yet he felt better too. 

After what seemed an eternity James began feeling more calm and the tears lessened. 

His master caught his chin and tilted his head upwards using his other hand to wipe away the last of them. 

“If you ever want to talk about it again, that’s fine. And if not that’s fine too, alright?” he said softly, giving James a serious look. 

James nodded hesitantly, unsure of how to act after that entire display and confused about his master even more. 

“Now, we’ll have breakfast and we then we’ll talk about some other things. Come on.” James was gently pushed off his lap and pushed towards the kitchen table. 

He found he needed little encouragement when he spotted the mug of, now, cold tea. Scrambling unto his chair he grabbed it with both hands and downed it in one go. A tall glass of juice was put in front him as well and before James started on his fruit he downed that one as well. And then he looked up at his master with a slightly sheepish look, he was having a field day breaking every possible rule about proper pack behaviour. But the other werewolf only gave him soft smile as he tapped James’ empty glass with his wand to refill it and took a bite out of own piece of toast. And, strangely enough, James had been expecting that much. Maybe he was starting to understand him. 

Picking up his spoon to dig into his grapefruit James wondered what it would take to make this one angry. But he cut his own thoughts off short. It’d be ridiculous for a start and James doubted he wanted to actually see his Alpha angry. For all the gentleness and friendliness, there was an undercurrent that James really did not want to see brought to the surface. 

“Greyback was the one to bite me as well,” his master spoke suddenly. James kept his eyes on his food. “But he had been alone that night and my family managed to chase him away. Otherwise he would have taken me to raise me himself too. As it stands I’m a complete and utter disgrace to our kind, a pathetic excuse, not worthy of our proud heritage.” 

The last words were spoken such venom that James looked up, surprised to see a look of pure hatred, which transformed into sadness as the two locked eyes. 

“Tell me James, who am I?” 

The question took James by surprise but he knew the answer. 

“You are my master, sir.” He said, proudly. 

The smile he got wasn’t as brilliant as he had wanted and expected, in fact it turned even more sad than before. 

“I was afraid of that.” his master said, his entire tone downtrodden. Annoyingly confusing Alpha, of course he was his master. 

James’ feelings must have shown on his face because the other werewolf raised his eyebrows at him and even chuckled very faintly.

“When Greyback told me what a pathetic werewolf I was, he meant every single aspect of what, according to him, it means to be werewolf. I was bitten when I was eight and raised by my parents. I do not have the same outlook on being a werewolf as he does. If anything there pretty much as opposite as they could possibly be. Do you understand?” 

“Yes sir.” James answered politely, even if he didn’t. He was quite sure his Alpha, as he probably should refer to him seeing as he clearly had a problem with master, would start that promised talk now and he really wanted to understand this werewolf. Both for the sake of his position in this two-wolf pack and simply for the sake of the other. 

“I consider myself a human with a very serious, very lethal illness, which affects every aspect of my life. Thankfully I’ve never eaten or bitten another but every full moon I’m scared that it will happen.” 

A silence fell and even though he still was looking into his eyes, James had the distinct feeling his Alpha’s mind was elsewhere. But James finally found something that would please his Alpha and he had Greyback to thank for it. 

“I’ve never eaten or bitten anybody either, sir.” He said quietly and not too proudly. He would, after all, have jumped at the first opportunity to be actually let out of his cage. 

Another frown. 

“He kept you locked up.” the Alpha stated, his voice an odd mixture of disdain and relief. 

James only nodded.

“Its hell, isn’t it? Waking up covered in scratches and bites because the wolf just has to get at something.” 

James nodded again and shuddered. He might not be able to remember the nights but the days after were always painful. 

“In school I had a pack and with them I was able to run freely with them through the nights…”

“You went to school? With werewolves?” James interrupted surprised. Greyback had never said anything about school. Except that he would love to set his teeth into ‘Dumbledore’s precious charges’. James knew of Dumbledore, his father had always praised the man, always praised the school he ran, Hogtarts or Hogfarts or something like that, he couldn’t remember but the name had always made him giggle. 

His Alpha smiled at his question, a small smile but definitely amused, not sad anymore. 

“Yes, I went to school. But no, I was the only werewolf there. At first the Headmaster was the only one who knew but then I got friends and when they found out they didn’t cast me aside but helped me. It were a good ten years.” His Alpha glanced at the clock above the hearth and James followed his gaze. ‘Time for pack bonding’, it read.

“They made that clock for my seventeenth birthday. We used to make all kinds of things, or James, the one I mentioned, and Sirius did at least. Peter and I just played with them.”

James thought about those words. They didn’t make sense. His Alpha was an Alpha. Not just because between the two of them he obviously was the older and more powerful one but also because he smelled like one. The scent wasn’t very strong, though and James remembered how long it had taken him in the forest to actually place the scent. Still, his Alpha made it sound like he had been a beta and that couldn’t be, Greyback had always been very clear about that. 

“Sir, weren’t you the Alpha of your pack?” James dared to ask. 

“Ah, no. I think that honor went to Sirius. At that point I didn’t really care about that. I was just happy to have friends and I wanted to keep them. So even when they did things I didn’t like, I still went along with it. So back then I wasn’t an Alpha, no.”

“But...” James started only to shut his mouth again. 

“I’ve always denied the more wolfish part of me. As I said, I deny my baser urges and I consider werewolves humans with an affliction. But I can’t deny that I have sharper senses than most around me or that I tend view relationship in terms of power, no matter how much that goes against my principles. Aside from turning into a blood thirty raving monster every full moon it is the aspect I detest most. The instinct to submit or to dominate. Do you understand?”

James wanted to say that he did but he couldn’t. His Alpha had said everything before but put together like this James had difficulty to follow him. 

“No sir, I don’t.” 

“What do you not understand?” 

James thought about that, finishing off his cold piece of toast. 

“You sound if you hate us, sir, yourself, our kind. Like you agree with the humans who want to see us all dead.” 

The small, gentle smile faded into a frown, more serious and more severe than anything James had seen so far and he wondered whether he pushed too far. But then, thankfully the expression softened again. 

“What has Greyback taught you about werewolves?” he asked and James was quite certain that was not the answer to his question. 

“We are proud creatures, top of the food chain. Humans fear us, as they should. Humans are nothing but our cattle.” James tossed out a few off Greyback’s teachings. 

“See, I do believe not that, any of that because I believe I’m human. Yes, I am … afflicted but that does not change who I am. I still have soul, my mind, my emotions. I do not consider anybody I cross in the street as food. I do not need it to survive and giving the wolf free range would make me nothing more than a common murderer and that I refuse to be.” 

It wasn’t the not-eating-humans rule that bothered James, or the fact that his Alpha thought of himself as human, even if he did not quite understand that. No it was the part where his Alpha denied everything else about being a werewolf.   
What if his Alpha didn’t have a pack because he didn’t want one? What would he do with him? Did he hate him?

“James? You alright?” his Alpha asked softly. 

“No sir.” James said in a very tight voice. This was getting stupid; he would not start crying again, he simply would not. 

“Come here.” his Alpha, or whoever he was, ordered in that damned soft, gentle tone of his and James found himself in his lap and with his head against his shoulder once more. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“You hate me, you don’t want me.” James spluttered out between sobs, thoroughly ashamed. He wanted to stay with this man, who did not act like a master but rather like a father, odd as that was. For this Alpha he would do anything, bear his stomach, please in him in any way he asked, simply anything. 

“Oh shush, cub,” the werewolf murmured into his ear, rubbing his back softly. “I don’t hate you. I will never hate you.”

Even through his crying, and the leap of his heart at those words, the unsaid didn’t escape James. He leaned backwards so that he could face his Alpha but did not try to move out the loose one–armed embrace. His Alpha again wiped away his tears and cupped his cheek, and James soaked up the touch. 

“But you don’t want me?” James asked. It came out like an accusation. 

The other werewolf sighed deeply, reached around James and drew back, handing him a glass of juice. James accepted it gratefully but kept his eyes on the werewolf, waiting for his answer. Although he figured the pause was enough of an answer. He held his breath as the other werewolf started to speak. 

“I would love it for you to come and live with me,” The other werewolf started and James let out a sigh of relief, even though that clearly wasn’t all. “But there are some things we need talk about.” 

James let out an impatient huff at that. What had they been doing then? His Alpha chuckled softly. 

“I’ll need to ask you a few questions, alright?” 

James only nodded. His Alpha cleared his throat and spoke again.

“Do you have any relatives where you could go? Your mother, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles?”

“No sir,” James answered, shaking his head. “My mother and sisters were killed when I was a baby by the evil wizards and You-know-who.” He whispered the last part, as his father had always done and saw his Alpha’s eyes widen at his words. “My mother was a muggle.” 

“I’m sorry, cub.” His Alpha said sincerely. 

“And my father said we were all that was left.” James continued, shrugging off the condolences. 

“What’s your last name?” 

“My last name was Marmelade, sir” James said, a bit apprehensively. If these questions meant that he would be sent away to live with people he had never met, he’d rather not answer them. He wanted to stay with his Alpha.

His Alpha’s eyes widened even more at that.

“I knew your father.” He started and now James’ eyes widened.

“He was in my house at Hogwarts.” 

Hogwarts that was the name, and despite everything James couldn’t help a giggle. He shook his head at his Alpha’s questioning gaze, instead he urged him on. 

“Papa was a Gryff en dor, right?” his father had told him about the school many times.

“It’s pronounced Gryffindor, but yes, he was. He was in his fourth year when I started though, so I never got to know him well. I did speak to him at the trails, he was completely broken up.” His Alpha’s face turned thoughtful, and James wondered what he was thinking about. 

“I never knew he was the victim of a werewolf attack.” he said after a minute silence, slowly. 

“Sir, you’re going to send me away, aren’t you?” James asked after another silence, studying the glass of juice in his hand. He’d love to talk some more about his father and other things but there was no point in delaying the inevitable. 

His chin was raised and he looked into his Alpha’s eyes once more. They were filled hope and a bit of sadness.   
“I can’t make any guarantees, James. This situation is not easy. Not many people know of my affliction but it’s difficult to keep a job with my affliction, so I’m not wealthy man.”

James didn’t really see a concern there. 

“I spoke with the headmaster this morning and he has agreed to meet with us this afternoon, if you’re up for it. We’ll meet with him and discuss things further and get you checked up by madam Pomfrey.” 

Now that was something else entirely. 

“I’m going to go to Hogwarts and meet Dumbledore?” James said with a smile. 

“Yes, and if everything works out, and I’m pretty sure it will, we’ll go shopping and get you clothes and everything.” 

James wanted to smack himself for even doubting his Alpha. He said everything was going to be fine, James was going to stay. They were going to go out. To Hogwarts and shopping. James felt a warmth and a gratitude he had thought impossible. 

He put his glass behind him on the table, closed his eyes and barred his Alpha his neck. James never felt so confident in submitting. For the first time he chose to and it felt liberating to do so. With everything his Alpha had told him James was sure he didn’t need to do this, which was exactly why he did do it. His Alpha had asked for nothing, had only been giving, so James could at the very least give him this.

He heard his Alpha sigh deeply again, and wavered for a moment, afraid he would be rejected after all. But then he gathered all his courage and lent into the other werewolf. 

James himself sighed deeply as his Alpha nipped his neck sharply and laved the bite with his tongue before pushing James away from him slightly. 

“Thank you.” His Alpha said solemnly and James felt elated. 

Until he looked at his, truly his, Alpha. He wasn’t looking nearly as happy as he should be. 

“James,” he started and the serious note was not gone and James wondered how the hell he had managed to displease his Alpha with his offer. He had accepted it, hadn’t he? Damned confusing Alpha. “I want to get thing very straight. I am your Alpha and you are my beta, but I’m not your master and you are not my slave. Understand? I’ll take care of you, protect you and teach you as long as you want and need but you will not be serving me. Understand?” 

And there his Alpha went again. James wanted to point out that the other was his master and that of course James would serve him but he figured that would a lost cause. Instead his Alpha had to go and act father like once again. 

Not that James minded it, not in the least, but it did go to show that being raised with your own kind was better. At least there he had learned the proper ways of werewolves and he was glad to could start to show that their ways weren’t all that bad. Even if James had been taking great liberties already. He’d be the best beta any Alpha had ever wished for, suddenly realizing his Alpha had made him a beta, but in a pack of two that didn’t really count for much. 

Still James was a very, very happy and he nodded his accord. 

“Alright, so you can call me Remus and dispense with the sir.” 

And James had finally figured it out. His Alpha wasn’t as much confusing, although he was that too, as he was confused. He was expecting him to call him by his first name, well that would never happen in a next to million years. James might have been stretching the boundaries a bit, but he wouldn’t go as far as break them entirely.

His Alpha apparently picked up on his resistance. 

“What would you like to call me then?” he asked a bit warily, before adding hastily. “Except Mr. Lupin, I’m old, but not that old.” 

“I could call you Alpha, sir?” James offered. He thought it more respectful than master, actually, more personal.

“Well, it isn’t master or Mr. Lupin, at least. But I would really like for you try and grow comfortable with Remus though.” His Alpha said with a wry grin before he pushed him of his lap. 

His Alpha got up and picked up the unopened parcel from the counter and handed it to him. James accepted it with wide eyes. 

“You can’t very well go into Hogwarts in my old pajamas, now can you? So go and put them on and we’ll be off.”

James opened the package almost reverently and took out the contents. A pair of black cotton trousers, a green t-shirt, a green button up shirt, boxers, sox and a pair of trainers. 

“I hope it all fits, but it should be enough for next few hours, at least.” His Alpha added as he gave James a gentle push towards the bathroom. 

James wasted no time in the bathroom. He went about his business quickly before dressing himself with almost the same reference as he had unpacked them. The clothes were a bit big but when he looked into the mirror he barely recognized himself. He looked like a normal kid, well kept and everything, instead of the cast-off he had always been with Greyback. 

How much a life could change within a day. 

James smiled proudly at his reflection, ran a hand through his hair, which was actually blonde once again, and left the bathroom, strutting. 

“Ah good, they fit.” his Alpha said approvingly as he looked James up and down. “And you can still grow into them.” 

James could feel himself glow. 

“Now, we’re going to floo into the Headmaster’s office directly, as I wouldn’t want to spoil your first view of Hogwarts when you’ll start there.” His Alpha was smiling decidedly secretive and James really wanted to know what that was about.

“When will I start?” James asked as they both stood before the fireplace. His Alpha looked down on him with a smile. 

“When you’re eleven.” He stated before asking. “How old are you anyway?”

That was a good question, James thought. 

“I’m ten, sir. I think.” 

His Alpha gave another smile, a proper one this time. James liked those the best. 

“Well, Dumbledore will undoubtedly able to figure that out.” 

And with that he threw an arm around James’ shoulders and tossed the floo powder into the hearth. James watched the flames flare like he hadn’t seen in many moons and stepped into them with his Alpha. 

They stepped out into a large circular room and the first thing James noted was the enormous desk in the middle. Behind it sat an old man with a long beard who got up as soon as they made it through. 

James had forgotten the way flooing dirtied clothes and bent forward to dust off his Alpha’s robes. It wasn’t as if they could take much more abuse. His Alpha, however gave a small smile and waved him off. So instead he brushed of his own clothes and hid behind his Alpha as the tall wizard, whom he presumed to be Dumbledore, came closer. Not as impressive in person as the stories made him out to be but he had a strong scent. 

“Welcome Remus, why don’t you introduce to your young charge.” Dumbledore spoke in a pleasant voice. 

His Alpha had already taken his hand, pulling him forward a little when a deep voice on the other side of the room was heard. 

“Yes Lupin, do introduce us to the boy bit in order to get yourself some. Always knew it would happen.” 

James heard both his Alpha and Dumbledore inhale sharply but before either of them could reply he turned towards the source of the voice and locked eyes with him fearlessly. 

“My Alpha did not bite me, Greyback did, my Alpha saved me from him. Insult him once more and I swear I'll scratch your eyes out, human.” 

The man who had spoken was as pale as a corpse, tall and imposing, and if it weren’t for the completely stricken expression on his face James would have eaten his words out of sheer terror. 

But as it was he stood in front of his Alpha and did not move an inch. His Alpha placed a hand on his shoulder but the tall man spoke.

“Draco?” 

 

End of part one

 

Author’s note:

Okay, finally this chapter is done. I did not mean to take this long but alas.   
I had an entire note planned out but I actually find it unnecessary. If you have questions, ask me, or wait for the rest of the story to have them answered. Not to worry, there will no RL/DM in this story; theirs is a familial relationship, although it might be more tactile. 

Thank you Rosa and Becky for your reviews.


	5. Moon cycles

  
Author's notes: see first chapter  


* * *

Part two: Chapter four: Moon cycles

James was not happy, nor was he pleased or feeling any other positive emotion. He was downright pissed, actually. 

Here he was, once again sitting at the Slytherin table for the starting feast but this time his Alpha, HIS Alpha, was sitting at the head table after having been introduced as the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. But had he so much as looked at his beta, nooo. Instead he had thrown that smile, the smile James had gone without for well over two years at Harry Bloody Potter. 

Draco clenched his fists until he felt the skin of his palms break and then released a deep sigh. If only his Alpha would bestow him with one small token of his favor. 

He let out a small chuckle at his own thinking, which got him several curious stares from his nearest seated house-mates, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy. He wondered what would happen if he, oops accidentally of course, mauled those three and another chuckle escaped him. 

So many ‘what ifs’ he had been fantasying about over the past few years. It was a great way to spend the time though. That and the list of ways to kill your ‘father’ without getting caught. This morning he had come up accidental beheading by a portrait, it was number three-hundred-and-nineteen on the list. 

But whereas the list was a good, if perhaps not very healthy, way to rid himself of his aggression towards the esteemed Lucius Malfoy, the ‘what ifs’ where simple torture. 

His most horrible scenario was the one where Joseph Marmelade had never sought revenge against Lucius Malfoy by kidnapping his heir. Draco always shuddered when he thought of that one; it was the one he was living, after all.   
Because according to ‘his parents’ he never been gone, had he? According to ‘his parents’ he was Draco Lucius Malfoy and he had just happened to be misplaced for eight years or so, only to be found again in perfect working order. The fact that ‘little Dragon’, as his ‘mother’ called him, had to sleep in the dungeons three nights of the month was, of course, simply ignored. After all, Lucius Malfoy’s exact words at their first meeting were “Malfoys are no werewolves”. Those words, of course, had been directed at his uncle Severus instead of him, accompanied by the order to find a cure. Such a loving man, his father was.   
The problem was that Draco knew that had he never been James, had never been taken he probably would have admired the man. Lucius Malfoy was the Alpha male personified; he had the power and he knew how to use it.   
Fact was, if it wasn’t for the tiny fact of already a proper Alpha, and the even more insignificant fact of Lucius Malfoy having been a .., now what was that name again, oh yes, bloody fucking Death Eater, he would have bared the many his stomach many times over. But never for the reasons he had bared his neck at his Alpha. There was no gentleness and hardly any friendliness in Lucius Malfoy but power, that there was by the buckets. Oh, and money, that too. All in all it could be considered a bad thing he hated the man.   
And hate him he did, especially after pulling that little prank with the Weaselette this last year. Yup, that was good one; let’s let a basilisk roam through the school, right after the teenage werewolf. 

That was what James truly did not understand, why had someone as natural powerful like Lucius Malfoy decided to toss it all out to submit to someone like You-know-who. Someone who would have Lucius Malfoy kill his own son for being a werewolf. Or perhaps he’d use Draco to kill, that was far more likely actually; after all, his uncle Severus had told him that Greyback was Death Eater too. Not that that had surprised Draco, easy pickings and all that. What had surprised him was that his uncle, his godfather and stand-in Alpha had shown him his mark. 

To be honest, he had lost it completely before the more rational part of his mind had reminded him of his Alpha’s words in the last minutes of what rightfully should have been the beginning of his new life with his Alpha. ‘Do not trust your father’ and ‘Severus will act as your Alpha in my stead’. If his Alpha, who clearly held no love for evil wizards, had trusted his godfather to act as his Alpha, he could trust him, at least a little. And his uncle had taken his task very seriously. He had started to teach him Occlumency, which he assured him was quite necessary and had backed his Alpha’s suspicions about Lucius Malfoy. But, of course, most importantly he had developed The Potion, which James felt should always be referred to in capitals. Wolfsbane, god’s gift to those werewolves who did not want to go out of their mind. Only one drawback, though, the werewolf missed his Alpha even more than the human did and even if the potion cured him from his blood lusting dementia, it did not cure him, or the multiple factions of his personality, from desperately wanting to be close to his Alpha close during the full moon. 

“So Draco, what are we going to with Potter this year?” Goyle’s voice broke through his reverie. Draco looked up from his plate, noticing absentmindedly that gutting his kidney pie hadn’t made it any more appetizing.   
“I’ve been working on something but it’s not ready yet, so I’ll get back to you on that.” Draco drawled with a smirk. Both Goyle and Crabbe looked pleased and Pansy giggled. Beside them Zabini and Nott just looked at him, not giving anything away. He stared them down one at the time and was pleased when they both looked away first. Thankfully Millicent and Daphne had being engaged in their own tittering. 

Oh yes, Draco, the Slytherin Prince, the complete and utter git. That was the consequence of actually living this ‘what if’. Being an acceptable Draco Malfoy. 

Draco Malfoy was simply not a nice guy, pretty hard to be, too, with the family he had grown up with. But being Draco Malfoy wasn’t all bad, though. He was the Alpha with his own little pack running after him and doing his bidding and that was…nice. It would have been better, however, if his status and pack hadn’t been foisted upon him by the great Lucius Malfoy and if the man hadn’t made it very clear that life for Draco would be a lot more pleasant if he’d just do what he was told. Because ‘forgetting’ Draco was actually an animal, magical or not, did come at a price.  
And again, it wasn’t all that bad. It wasn’t as if his act to hate Potter and the stupid Gryffindorks was that difficult. Bloody holier-than-thou attitude of that whole house. The fact that Draco had not been polite, to say the least, was quite irrelevant. It wasn’t as if he could go and play nice. He could just imagine the messages Crabbe and Goyle would relay to their fathers: ‘Draco nice, Draco bad’. No, better those messages said ‘Draco rude, Draco good’. Because whatever they wrote their fathers Lucius Malfoy would hear about. It was the only reason why they hung around anyway. 

But the point was that the entire world mooned over Potter, adored Potter, loved Potter. Potter could do no wrong. Poor little Potter, lost his parents to You-Know-Who, almost killed by him too. Well, bully for him. James had lost his mother and sisters to him and his followers, had lost his father to another one of his followers, he himself had spent years as a catamite and a slave to the latter, and, finally, he apparently had been sired by one of the most devoted and loyal followers of the lot. Really, Potter had had some set backs and some amazing good luck but he really wasn’t all that. 

And now his Alpha, HIS Alpha, sat there, smiling at the Gryffindor table. 

After he had heard nothing from his Alpha for over two years, not one single letter. He had gotten small presents for Christmas and his birthday, which he cherished greatly in a pouch that he always carried with him, but never one single letter. His uncle had explained that it was simply too dangerous, what with Lucius Malfoy around but if he could receive and send presents, then why not send and receive letters? Or simply meet his eyes for one ruddy second? 

No, James was not a happy boy right now. 

 

Draco Malfoy went through his routine as per usual. He scorned every teacher except his uncle. Insulted and fought with Potter and company. Avoided Zabini’s and Nott’s questions and gazes. Strutted through the halls confidently, even arrogantly. All in all really not all different from his first two years at Hogwarts. 

Except for that tiny detail where his Alpha was his new teacher. Not that he treated his Alpha with even the slightest respect like he should, of course not. He was Draco Malfoy, the proud son and heir Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater in the making. 

As none of his fellow students knew who, or what, he really was he could hardly prostate himself in the middle of class. A few times he had considered asking for a meeting after class but every single time his Alpha would disregard him class and yet smile at Potter. And that angered him. He could not please his Alpha, he could not even reach him. And his Alpha seemed to have tossed him aside, favoring Potter. 

And Draco hadn’t been about to simply walk up to his Alpha, of course not. His father and his Alpha might be Gryffindors but he was undeniably a Slytherin. Apparently that was a Malfoy thing but Draco rather liked to think as of it as a werewolf thing. 

But did his Alpha visit after that hippogriff had bitten him? No, a whole week he spend in the infirmary and nothing, not even a card or sweets. At least his ‘mother’ had sent even more delicious chocolates than usual. She had a nice way of hiding her disgust and fear of him. 

Alright, so he had been provoking the beast on purpose, and he had made puppy eyes at Pomfrey after his arm had been long healed to let him be injured just a little while longer. After all, it had just been the full moon and Pomfrey was always worried about him then. She always worried about him and just like his uncle, and the headmaster, she was most unimpressed by Draco Malfoy, but she did have a soft spot for James. 

His uncle had been his usual scornful self about his absence, clearly not buying his pity act but letting him abuse it anyway. At least his substitute Alpha had not developed a sudden fondness for the Boy-who-lived-through-far-less-shite. But then again his uncle wasn’t particularly fond of anybody, including Draco. He tried to hide his apprehension about Draco’s condition but it still failed regularly. His uncle might be unimpressed by Draco Malfoy but he did prefer him to James that much was clear. But even if the man was uncomfortable with him, at least he did not deny it and had even explained it to him. 

And Draco could understand how being tricked into meeting a werewolf, and being almost mauled by said werewolf would not create any fuzzy feelings. Especially if one ended up being rescued by one’s enemy. Draco couldn’t help but respect his uncle for playing an active role in his life, even if it came at the bidding of two men he held no love for. Draco’s Alpha’s offenses were clear but what Lucius Malfoy had done to offend the godfather of his only child remained a mystery. One which Draco would not get to resolve any time soon because while uncle was quite willing to share his thoughts on the ‘loathsome characters of Black and company’, he only dismissed any questions on Lucius Malfoy with a cold look. 

But now it was one week to the next moon and Draco would be damned if his Alpha would not have acknowledged him by then. Even if he would be shown all four corners of the Shrieking Shack, where he, too, had spent all his full moons before The Potion, he would spend this moon with his Alpha. After spending the last two-and-a-half years as Draco Malfoy he had gotten used to get what he wanted. 

 

On-the-morning-which-started-like-a-dream-but-had-ended-in-a-nightmare James had thought about whether or not it was possible to anger, truly anger, his Alpha. Well, he had his answer now. Do not tickle a sleeping werewolf seemed an appropriate thought, together with oblique references to escaped former pack-mates do not a happy Alpha make. 

All it had took was a flash of amber in his Alpha’s eyes and the quietly spoken demand to see him after class and James knew was in deep, deep trouble. 

 

Author’s Note:

Alright a new chapter, much shorter but hope you enjoyed it anyway. 

A little explanation might be in order. Right, so the story has skipped into the start of the third year.   
Yes, Severus recognized Draco and brought Draco ‘home’. Draco is a bit messed up in the head, but managing by compartmentalizing his life. This was actually a good strategy, until Remus showed up as a teacher, because this put Draco/James at odds with his Draco Malfoy ‘persona’. I hope this makes some sense.   
How things came to be, and Remus’ and Snape’s role in everything will be all be discussed. 

Thank you Becky and Rosa for your reviews!!!


	6. Missed Moons

  
Author's notes: see first chapter  


* * *

Chapter five: Missed Moons

He should have just taken the child and made a run for it, Remus decided as he sat down behind his desk with a wary sigh.

He should not have let Dumbledore persuade him that James should go to his parents. He should never have let Severus’ oddly vulnerable behavior and scent convince him that the man would make a good substitute Alpha. 

He should have never let James go because the boy sitting in his class, the one he had been observing for the past three weeks was pretty much a menace to society. Honestly, antagonizing a Hippogriff, James was lucky to be a cub or the beast would have torn its head off. 

What bothered Remus even more, though, was James’ general attitude. Severus had warned him. He had told him about Draco Malfoy as opposed to Draco, as Severus insisted on calling him. And he had told about the eyes and ears Lucius had planted around the boy. And all of it gave James a lot of leeway but enough was enough. 

The boy had simply gone too far with his little remark about Sirius. Not only had he insulted Remus but he had caused Moony to surge dangerously close to forefront, having had enough of his cub’s blatant disrespect. And that had made Remus’ blood boil, and that, in turn, disturbed him greatly. 

Perhaps Severus had been right and coming to Hogwarts had been a stupid mistake. But Remus couldn’t let a change to see James again, finally and to meet Harry pass, now could he? 

Setting his class to work on their essay on Giants, Remus eyed both Harry and James.   
Two boys he felt ultimately responsible for even though they weren’t related by blood. Well, James was in a sense, he, too, had been bitten by Greyback and Remus had bitten him, so for their werewolves they most definitely were kin, and Harry was, of course, simply Harry, the sole prodigy of his school mates and thus highly cherished.

Two boys he had to protect, one from himself and his sire and one from the man who Remus had loved as a young man, and who, in true fashion to their heritage, hated each other with a vengeance. Remus couldn’t say he made life easy for himself, some days he truly wished he did, though. 

James was clearly rattled, although he made a nice act out of working on his essay. But then again, acting seemed to be his forte, which could be considered a blessing. Or a curse if he got too lost in his role. And Remus was very afraid of that happening. Still, the boy seemed fine, well taken care of at least. 

Finally the lesson was over and the students filed out, leaving James standing at the edge of his desk, studying the floor intently. And Remus, or rather Moony, was pleased by the obvious nervousness. 

“Mr. Malfoy.” Remus said as he got up from his desk, walked around it and leaned against the front of it, casting strong silencing charms as he did so. 

“Professor.” James replied in kind. Remus crossed his arms in front of his chest and for a moment felt as if he were channeling Severus and quickly shook that thought away. 

“What did you think you were doing purposely antagonizing a Hippogrif?” Remus asked calmly, as if he were inquiring after his beta’s general well-being and it served the purpose of unsettling James even further. Remus might be a Gryffindor and could admit to generally being a people pleaser, perhaps even excessively so, but this was a different situation altogether. 

“Sir?” James looked up, his face still blank but his eyes full of confusion, losing their coldness. 

“I would have thought Professor Snape would have made you read everything available on Lyncantrophes.” Remus continued pleasantly. 

James only reaction was to nibble on his lower lip and silently shake his head, his cheeks flaming red. 

Remus let out a sigh and slowly made his way over to James. When he had been in Hogwarts he had raided the library for any and every book on his condition. By the end of his first year he had read all the five leading texts, including those from the restricted section. 

“Well, most of them are utter rubbish, but ‘Magical Mayhem’ actually makes for an interesting read. Turns out werewolves are not particularly liked by many magical creatures, especially Hippogriffs. Apparently it has something to do with the whole dominance thing. Hippogriffs are rather full of themselves but not entirely stupid and a marked cub needs only to be shown its place, not die for his impertinence.”

If possible James flushed even further and Remus decided that the color red did not look good on him. As James was already quite beside himself, Remus decided to go for the kill. 

“Tell me, why did you think that me being a professor here made it acceptable for you to disregard my rules?” 

“Your rules, sir?” James asked in a small voice and suddenly Remus got a sickening feeling in his stomach. Severus hadn’t, had he? He would not have been that stupid.

“James, please tell me you actually received and read my letters?” Remus asked as he stopped in front of the boy, who had decidedly paled at Remus’ words. 

“Letters, sir?” James looked very much like the scared and lost boy he had taken from the forest that day and nothing like the overly arrogant, proud brat ‘Draco Malfoy’. 

Remus eyes narrowed in anger at the thought of Severus, the greasy, hook nosed git.   
Apparently he had been stupid enough not to think about the consequences of waylaying an Alpha from his pack. 

James, however, clearly misunderstood Remus’ reaction. 

“Alpha, I’m sorry, sir.” He started in a rather high-pitched voice but it broke at the end, making his plea sound even more desperate than it did already. Scraping his throat James pulled a small pouch from his robe pocket and deposited the content on the tables. Spread out on the table Remus saw the shrunken versions of the gifts had he send James over the years but he was too taken a back by James’ use of the formal address, trembling form, and the smell of undulated fear which almost choked him to respond adequately at the sight of his clock, or the other objects which weren’t worth much but held great sentimental value. 

“See, Alpha, I did get your presents and I kept them safe, even if uncle Sev...I mean professor Snape thought he should..” Remus stopped the boy from his fearful ramblings by pulling him to his chest, stroking his back soothingly. Remus feared James had been seconds away from falling to his knees. He had meant to make boy uncomfortable for his punishment, yes, but not fearful. 

If he had thought that James, or ‘Draco Malfoy’ had been managing himself just fine, those ideas were now dispelled completely. This boy was a complete and utter mess and Remus felt guilty for putting the thumbscrews on him. 

“Hush, cub, if you say didn’t get the letters, you didn’t get them. No harm done. Hush now, James.” 

James had grown, Remus noted absentmindedly, and quite a lot at that. The boy would probably end up taller than him in a few years time, seeing as he reached the middle of his chest already. 

James was saying something, again with his voice high-pitched but the words were muffled. Remus did not need to hear them to understand what James tried say. He pulled away slightly and crouched down so he was eye-level with James. Big, wet, and silver eyes looked back at him. 

“James, you do understand that there is very little you can do that will make me wash my hands of you, don’t you?” 

Remus couldn’t in good faith say there was absolutely nothing, although apparently even Sirius’ betrayal was not enough to tell the authorities about his animagus status. James probably could happily follow in Lucius Malfoy’s footsteps and Remus would still welcome him with open arms. 

“However, mentioning Sirius, especially in such a manner is not something I like, or tolerate.” Remus stated sternly and James gave him a tiny nod as he cast his eyes to the gifts on the table and started fingering them thoughtfully. 

“Having said that,” Remus continued in a lighter tone. “I’m impressed that you still remember my mentioning him.” 

James peeked up from the table and gave Remus a tiny smile before shrugging. 

For a second Remus just looked at him. He should have just taken the child and run. But he hadn’t and now he had to deal with Severus Snape, who had been taking too many liberties by far. 

“Come on, we’re going to pay dear professor Snape a visit.” 

“Uhm, sir, I am supposed to be in Charms right now and Professor Snape still has classes too.” James said as Remus was already at the door. He turned around to give the boy a sheepish look and walked right back to his desk. 

“Right, of course.” Remus muttered to himself as he quickly wrote a note to Flitwick to excuse James for his delay. 

James, in the meantime had put his gifts back into his small pouch, holding it in his wand hand. 

“Here, give this to Professor Flitwick,” Remus said handing the note over. “So you liked them then?” he asked with dismissive gesture to the pouch trying to sound utterly casual about it.

This time James smiled at him and nodded feverently, sliding the pouch back into the pocket of his robe. 

“Good, now I’m thinking you could do with a little help in this course, actually, and I do expect to see you here tomorrow after class, alright?” Remus said, deciding on the spot that if Severus had been ignoring the proper power in this situation, than Remus be damned to listen to the man’s so-called advice for a moment longer.

Remus hoped Severus savored his last hours of believing him to be a cowardly push-over. 

\----------

Author’s note: 

Another chapter. Sadly I just can’t seem to convey my ideas for this story properly but I hope you all enjoyed it anyway. 

Thank you Rosa and Lamapie for your reviews. Please keep reading. 

Marea: Thank you for your review. They are different personalities indeed, although James and Draco do blend into each other especially as he grows up more. I have taken your advice and added the warnings. Please keep reading and reviewing.


	7. On packs and leadership

  
Author's notes: see first chapter  


* * *

A special thanks to my beta Kodiakmac, without whom this chapter would have had some very odd spelling and grammar. All remaining mistakes are mine. 

 

Chapter six: On packs and leadership. 

“We need to chat. Be in my chambers at seven.” Remus whispered into Severus’ ear as he passed him at the head table at dinner. He clasped the Potion Master's shoulder in what would look like good-natured gesture, but as he moved towards his own chair he heard Severus calling him back; he ignored him. Instead he sat down beside Dumbledore and calmly poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. 

“Everything alright, my boy?” Dumbledore asked and looking up Remus noticed that telling twinkle in his eyes. Remus gave him a soft smile and nodded. 

“Yes, Albus, everything is quite alright.” 

“That’s good, that’s good.” Albus murmured before he tucked into his dinner. Remus glanced at the Headmaster’s plate but had to turn away at the sight of what looked and smelled like haggis doused in vanilla cream. 

He let his eyes roam the Great Hall, giving Harry a smile and only glancing over the Slytherin table long enough to see that Draco Malfoy was firmly back in control and started on his dinner. 

The clock on his mantle indicated it was a quarter past seven when the knock on his door finally came. Not that Remus had expected Severus to actually be on time. Hell, part of him was surprised Severus had answered his summons at all. That didn’t mean he had to like it, though. 

“Enter.” He said and the door opened on its own accord. 

Remus himself stayed comfortably seated in his chair, twirling a glass of wine in his hand. 

Predictably, Severus had already started speaking before he had even entered the room fully. 

“You called, Lupin?” he said, rather than asked in a tone filled its usual disdain. Merlin, Remus hoped that he didn’t use that tone with James. 

“Ah, Severus, please do have a seat.” Remus returned in his own congenial tone, waving towards the armchair opposite his. Severus wavered for a moment before sitting on the very edge of the cushion, glaring all the while. 

“Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee,…”

“Lupin, just say what you have to say. I honestly do have more important things to do.” Severus interrupted him. 

“Butterbeer, wine, or a nice glass of Ogden?” Remus finished unperturbed, rising from his seat. 

Severus’ glare intensified and he grounded out a warning.

“Lupin.” 

“Nothing? Oh well.” Remus said with a beatific smile as he sat back down. Oh, he was enjoying this. He leisurely took a sip from his wine before speaking again, paying no heed to Severus’ growing frustration. 

“You don’t actually,” Remus started and he waited for the Potion Master’s ire to kick up another notch before clarifying, “Have something better to do this evening.” 

“Pardon?” Severus all but growled in a mixture of disbelief and affront. “Everything is more import…” 

“You really do not know all that much about werewolves, do you Severus?” Remus cut him off taking another sip of wine. It was nice to be able to afford a good glass for a change. 

“Pardon?” Severus repeated and Remus silently congratulated himself on making Severus lose his composure, at least somewhat. 

“You ridiculed me that day in Albus’ office, saying it was utterly ridiculous for me to have bonded with a boy in less than a day. You were only patronizing me when you accepted my request. Remember that?” Remus asked and finally saw comprehension dawn the other’s face as to what this was all about. 

“Of course I do. Not likely to forget the day I found Draco, now am I?” Severus retorted curtly, crossing his arms in a gesture of defiance. 

“I imagine not, no. I’ll never forget the day my beta turned out to be your godson and the son of a man I thoroughly despise.” Remus returned calmly. 

Severus snorted derisively and opened his mouth only to shut it again. 

“Now, I’ll explain some things I should have explained to you far sooner Severus,” Remus said in an almost conspiratorial way. “It's not the Alpha who is harmed when a member leaves the pack. Some members simply need to strike out on their own, as chicks leaving the nest. However, a basic connection will always remain.” Remus said and took a deep breath. A pause Severus decided to use, unfortunately. 

“Oh please, Professor Lupin, do tell about the idyllic family life of the werewolf.” 

Whether it was the mocking impersonation of a student or simply the words and sarcasm, Remus didn’t know but he laughed out loud. It only aggravated Severus more and, even though he did slide back into the chair a little, his posture became more rigid. 

“Sure you don’t want anything?” 

“Just get on with it, wolf.” Severus sneered. 

“Oh, well. No, idyllic really isn’t the word I’d use, but that’s beside the point. The point is that when a werewolf bites someone, be it human or werewolf there is a connection. And it’s always stronger between children and elders. If Greyback had shown up in the first few weeks after he had bitten me I would have gladly followed him.” Remus finished slowly, trying to be as objective about that subject as he could. 

“The bite in itself makes a connection but of course personalities do too. Greyback’s most important betas, Freya and Thor have been by his side for some twenty years now. And trust me when I tell you do not want to meet them anymore than their glorious leader.” 

Remus must have been a little too sardonic and spiteful with his last words because he could swear he saw Severus’ lips quirk upwards by a fraction. He wondered just how much Severus, or Lucius Malfoy for that matter, actually knew about James’ stay with Greyback, which was still the longest period the boy had been in anybody’s care, to use the term loosely. 

“So what I’m getting at with all off this that while you might find it all ridiculous and possibly even disgraceful and insulting in some fashion, James and I most definitely do not.” Remus said, slowly let the lecture tone change into something darker. 

Severus blinked before the patented scowl returned. 

“Draco.” he corrected. To Remus it seemed more a divisionary tactic than anything else. 

“We’ve already agreed to disagree on that one and now is not the time for you to start up again.”

Severus actually sputtered before regaining his composure. Remus Lupin unnerving Severus Snape, would wonders never cease? Quite the morale booster too. 

“The boy’s name is Draco Lucius Malfoy, you stupid mutt. Not James Potter, not Peter Pettigrew, and not Sirius Black.” Severus hissed through clenched and more was the pity. But then again Severus always did get most adversarial when uncomfortable and scared and yes, he was most definitely both those. 

 

“Severus,” Remus started, barely more than a growl, “What I’m trying to explain to you is that pack alliances are more important and can overrule blood relations. Especially when it involves cubs, children, who are taken from the pack unwillingly.”

“But, and this is the part that truly concerns you, I made you his Alpha in my stead, thereby handing you complete responsibility for his welfare. However, that does not mean you can simply disregard me or withhold any of my missives from him.” 

“So I would appreciate it if, in the future you don’t keep any letters from him, or try to discredit me.” 

During his speech Remus had kept his voice calm, with just the slightest undercurrent of danger. Severus had held his gaze and now the fear had abated slightly but anger was taking its place. 

“I did it to protect the boy. Lucius has been keeping him under tight surveillance ever since he entered the house. Any sign of Draco allowing his beast to rule him will be punished severely. If any letters were to be found it could prove disastrous!” Severus almost yelled. He had gotten up from his chair and talking into the fire. Remus was slightly startled by the man’s vehemence, although he shouldn’t have been. It was clear the austere Severus truly did care for James. 

“Yet you did give him my gifts.” Remus began only to be interrupted.

“And I shouldn’t have!” Remus ignored him and continued. 

“Those letters didn’t just contain fanciful writing, they contained guidelines and explanations as to how we should relate to each other in school. Had he read them he might not have been so stupid as to draw a Hippogriff out and insult me in my class. I understand the reason for the ‘Draco Malfoy’ façade and to a large extent I trust you to guide him. But I did not give you a license to use my beta as an instrument for your petty school grudges.” 

“Petty school grudges?! You…you… you tried to kill me.” stammered Severus furiously and of course he would concentrate on that part of the statement. 

 

“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” Remus got up from his seat and stood before Severus. As Severus kept staring at fire Remus grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him to face him forcefully. “We are not going into that. You don’t like me and I don’t like you, fine. But James is our responsibility and he will not be made to suffer from our animosity.” 

“By knowing the truth about his precious Alpha and his precious friends?” Severus spat out and he tried to back away and shrug Remus’ hand off but Remus was not having any of that. 

“Oh for the... .You’re jealous, aren’t you? Unbelievable. This is not about us. This about doing what’s best for James, or Draco. And whether you like it or not that includes me. You might want to deny it as much as possible, and trust me I know all about that, but he is a werewolf.”

Remus felt Severus’ shoulders slump beneath his hands and finally Severus met his eyes. They were wary. Remus stepped back and conjured up a glass of wine and handed it to Severus, who accepted it without a word and emptied it almost in one go. 

“Lucius means to control Draco, far more than he would have if he had not been… what he is. He spoils him rotten in hopes of buying his good favor on the one hand yet retaliates with extreme force when Draco breaks any of his rules.” Severus said. 

Remus felt his stomach tighten once again and he gripped onto the mantle of the hearth until his knuckles turned white. Looking up at Severus he saw the other man was staring intently at said knuckles. Remus pushed himself back and dropped down into his chair. 

 

“Has Lucius ever laid a finger on him?” Remus asked.

“As far as I know, no. Draco seemed to understand the situation quite clearly for the beginning.” 

Remus nodded. James would only understand all too well. 

“Good, otherwise I’d …” 

“You’d what, storm the Mansion?” 

“I might, yes.” 

“How utterly Gryffindor.”

Remus smiled faintly at Severus’ mocking words, which seemed to have lost their sharpest edge. Taking in a whiff he also noticed Severus now smelled more of worry and discomfort than anger and fear. 

“Lupin, I can’t say that I understand any of this. I’m appalled, to say the least, to suddenly find you a defender of your animal practices, but you do seem to have Draco’s wellbeing at heart.” Remus barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at those words, recognizing that Severus was acting in the only way he knew how. 

“And as such I will take your suggestions considering Draco under advisement.” 

At this Remus snorted and rolled his eyes.

 

“Ta, ever so.” he said, not bothering to make it sound the least bit sincere and it earned him a withering scowl. 

“Consider this then the first of my suggestions: never come between me and James again.” 

Severus stared him long and hard and Remus let him. Finally Severus seemed to have reached some sort of decision. 

“Very well, Lupin. Now am I allowed to return to my more pressing duties or was there something else?” Severus’ tone was, of course, biting but the words and the fact that Severus had not stormed out told Remus he had done the impossible. Severus Snape was deferring to Remus Lupin. Moony was pleased and Remus had to admit he was, too. 

With a small wave of his hand Remus dismissed Severus. 

“No, that was it. Have a good evening, Severus.”

Only now then did Severus storm out, coats billowing, and without another word. 

 

Thank you, Marea for your kind review. Don’t worry, I’m not offended in the least and yes a beta-reader was necessary. Please keep reading and reviewing.

Thank you, Lamapie for your review. Yes, Draco/James is very confused and it’s likely to only get worse before it gets better.


	8. Cuddliness  from a severe perspective

  
Author's notes: see first chapter  


* * *

Chapter seven: Cuddliness from a severe perspective. 

 

Severus had imagined a fair few things in his time. He had imagined, for however brief once upon a time, becoming powerful and truly feared, at the side of his master, just as he had imagined others respecting him instead of always beating him down. Then he had imagined a world in which even people that had confessed to having gravely erred to be given a fair second chance. He had seen himself dying a thousand horrible deaths at the hands of not so forgiving crowds or their children in school. He had even, occasionally and always in loneliest hours of the night, imagined himself entangled with a lover. Someone, gender didn’t particularly matter, who cared for him and took care of him regardless of his many sins and faults. 

But never, ever, had he imagined the picture before him, nor would he have believed any tale of it if he had not witnessed it with own eyes. 

Severus had never been present during any changes of Draco. He simply hadn’t been able to face his godson, the only good thing Lucius had ever granted him with, in his monstrous guise. Somewhere in his mind it had always struck Severus as ironic that he, a powerful Dark wizard capable, by his own admission, of putting a stopper in death, was terrified of werewolves. He was not scared of vampires, or animagi or dragons even but one only had mention the word werewolf and, in all honesty, Severus would be in quite a state. Not that he’d admit to that under the veratiserum or even the longest of Cruciatus’, of course. 

He could have handled pretty much anything in regards to Draco, having reconciled himself with his probable death after he had been missing for four years but his beautiful boy being a werewolf had been almost too much. Especially as he had found him in the company of Remus Lupin. A waif of a boy threatening Severus with bodily harm over an insult would have been funny if it had not been Draco and his intent had not been so serious. 

Not only did it gall Severus that Draco so obviously adored a man he had known for less than a day. It hurt him physically that it to be that damned wolf and that no amount of truths seemed to able to dissuade the boy from his foolishly easily given admiration. After all these years those cursed Marauders still managed to get one over on him. 

Severus had so badly wanted to believe that Lupin was just another passing ship in Draco’s life. One who had taken him away from Greyback, true but also the one who had returned him to those he belonged with. If not with Lucius and Narcissa any longer, then at least with his Godfather. 

Severus had been … touched perhaps was the right word when Draco’s attitude towards him had gone from confrontational on behest of ruddy Gryffindor to true Malfoy aloofness in a matter of minutes. It had taken Severus a couple of weeks to figure out that it was because of not some innate sense of Malfoy superiority that made the boy act that way but because of a well crafted mask, designed to protect to wear in a hostile environment. 

Severus had found the boy crying, of all things, in his improvised potions laboratory in Malfoy Manor. For one horrible moment, when Draco had looked up at him with reddened eyes and such desperation, and fear, Severus had been afraid that the boy would fling himself at him but he had been spared. Instead, though, he had learned, between wretched sobs, that Lucius had found the boy worthy of knowing about the Dark Lord and that the boy did not like that… at all. He also learned, and that was the more important information, that Draco actually and truthfully considered himself considered himself the son of a halfblood wizard and a muggle woman, and the beta of one Remus Lupin. 

Severus had probed the boy’s mind to see just how inconsequential Gryffindors had actually succeeded in turning a Malfoy from his family, even after being dead for two years. 

What he had found had shocked him to the core. Not the boy’s memories of his ‘father’, which had been sickingly sweet and yet filled Severus with envy, but Greyback, turning up in between the loving familial scenes.

Snape, who had seen Greyback do his worst in both his forms, only truly started to hate the beast then. But the few images of Lupin had made his feeling towards that monster less severe. 

It was then that Severus decided that teaching Draco Occlumency would be a good thing to do. If the Dark Lord were to ever return it would take just one peek and Draco would be finished. Severus himself would not have survived his first five minutes with Voldemort without his skill. No matter his loyalty, his feelings towards a muggle-born witch would have cost him. 

 

Severus brought himself back to the present and watched the two werewolves again. 

Right then Draco, with his fluffy white fur, jumped on Lupin’s brownish coated back only to run away again, yelping happily as Lupin stalked him. 

Draco had been overly exited the entire day. Where the previous three times he had taken the potion he had been quiet and withdrawn, though clearly grateful, this time he was literally bouncing on the balls of feet, smiling broadly and very happy to tell Severus over and over again how great a Potions Master he was. And not that Severus minded the praise but it hurt that he or his potions weren’t the true cause of his godson’s happiness. He had been even more gruff than usual but it had not deterred Draco in the slightest.  
Draco had even leaned upward and pecked him on the cheek. 

Severus had stood standing staring after Draco a long time after the boy had left, damning Lupin to hell and back. The boy was turning into a damned Hufflepuff. 

Severus watched as Draco jumped out of Lupin’s way just as the older werewolf made a grab for the unruly cub. 

They were acting like animals, more than humans and Severus had wondered briefly whether his potion was actually working properly. But the complete lack of aggressiveness on either beast’s side disproved that. When Severus had arrived he had thought there was, though, and he had almost gone in to hex Lupin to pieces. 

The damned wolf had had his teeth set in the nape of Draco’s neck after all. But then Draco had yipped and yelped and there was no denying that those were excited, happy noises, not noises of distress. 

They were simply playing, bonding, and Severus was aghast. To see Draco in his wolf form actively seek out domination by Lupin, because there was no mistaking that in Severus eye, made his stomach clench. Lupin’s words still on forefront of his mind, he realized that Lupin had been right. Draco and he clearly connected on a deeper level. The way Draco had come to life over the past few days was proof of that. 

And although it had been utter folly to allow Draco to attend his remedial teaching session, Severus couldn’t find it in his heart to deny the boy. That, and he was pretty sure that Lupin had been quite serious in his unspoken threats. 

Severus watched as Lupin caught Draco. Easily overpowering him and Draco not resisting at all. Draco turned onto his back and bared Lupin his throat. Severus remembered Draco’s memories of Greyback well enough to see just what the boy was offering and he feared what would happen next. To his relief Lupin backed away, giving Draco a reprimanding growl. Draco whined but seemed to understand Lupin’s actions as he stood up and approached the werewolf on all fours, even if he did keep his head down in and tilted to the side in submission. Lupin did accept this as he nuzzled the boy’s neck before sinking his teeth in his neck once more, this time drawing blood. Draco mewled like a cat, oddly enough. 

Severus watched the pair as they broke apart and finally settled in for some sleep. Lupin stretched out on his side and Draco curled up against him, forcing Lupin to put a paw across his chest. Lupin tended to the bite with a couple of licks, Draco arching his neck to get the most of the ministrations but the quickly the two were fast asleep on the wooden floor, disregarding the cots set up for them. 

With a heavy sigh Severus left them to their sleep, knowing he’d been seeing both of them in just a couple of hours’ time. 

During his walk back to the castle Severus marveled over what he had just observed. Again he remembered Lupin’s words and he had to agree that he did indeed know little about werewolves, or just plain wolves for that matter. He even admitted to himself that Lupin was whole-heartedly committed to Draco. Perhaps he’d even go as far as to admit that he felt a certain honour at being appointed and accepted as the Alpha in Lupin’s stead, although those thoughts could be blamed on the hour of the night. Yet, and this thought had come to him during the day as well, Lupin did not seem the push-over he remembered. 

Severus was not surprised to run into the Headmaster as he entered the castle.   
He stood there, looking tired and worried but still he managed a small smile for Severus. 

“They’re alright then, I take it.” he said after had only nodded his hello.

“They’re perfectly fine.” Severus said, a bit shortly but he was tired and actually acknowledging the happiness that had been so obvious hurt more now than it had before. 

“Good, good,” Dumbledore mumbled before pinning Severus with a more serious look, “Does Draco know of what has to happen?” 

Severus was slightly taken aback by the question. He had put that matter in the back of his mind, as he was sure Lupin had done as well. 

“I would not know, Albus. I’ll leave that bit to the actual Alpha.” 

Dumbledore nodded with a somewhat sad expression on his face and Severus nodded at Albus once more.

“It’s been a long night Albus, and I do have extra classes to teach. Goodnight.” And with that he headed down towards the dungeons. 

He barely heard Albus goodnight wishes in return, but he’d wish the man would stop calling him ‘boy’. 

 

Author’s note: Finally an update. Please review!!

Thank you Becky, Natwest, Swirly and Rosa for your wonderful reviews and I'm sorry but your questions will remain unanswered for now.


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